Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (3 page)

What more could you ask of a man? It was from that predicament that Winston Churchill watched the German Air Force dominate the battlefield in the sky. After witnessing the shortcoming of the British state of affairs in France, Winston was determined if and when he returned to England, to be an advocate for the airplane.

Clementine interrupted Winston, or as she may have put it...brought him to his senses. “Winston, are you talking to yourself again?” She smiled and said dryly. “You may not want to do that in public. It might seem unbalanced to those unaccustomed to your ways.”

Winston took the cigar from his mouth. “My dear, a conversation lacking barbs and insults boomeranging back at you, is a welcome respite. The members on the opposite side, at the House of Commons, have a keen pleasure in performing such a task. But I must inform you that their banter lacks in wit and flair, which in the end makes it ineffective and as dull as His Majesty’s Sanitation Budget.”

“Did you already have a brandy?”

The cigar went straight back into his mouth. “My dear, you know me as well as anyone.”

“Yes, I do, much to my dismay.”

Winston laughed, “It seems I’ve met my match on the battlefield of repartee.”

“Better me than those lying in wait at the House of Commons. A more wretched place, I do not know of.”

“Sad but true.” Winston moved in the tub and a bit of water splashed over the side. The discarded pages of the London Times were soaked. Clementine gave him a disapproving look. Winston looked at the black ink, seeping off the pages of the newspaper. “That makes sense.”

“Winston.”

Winston belatedly said, “You are most welcome to join me in this splendid tub. I promise to edge sideways and keep my hands to myself.”

“Please…”

“Just because a man is a gentleman, doesn’t mean he isn’t just a man pretending to be a gentleman. One must take heed to primal instincts.”

Clementine’s face turned sour. “Enough. Winston would you hurry up, your guests are here.”

“Professor Kruger and his wife have already arrived?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I should have known that would be the case with German proficiency.”

“And their son, Wolf is with them. He has grown up.”

“Wolf, a fine Teutonic name. I understand he is a most impressive lad and from what I’m told, he’s fluent in English and Polish as well as French. French will serve him well if he strolls the streets of Paris on a warm summer night and meets an alluring girl reading poetry at a cafe. One thing will lead to another; after all, it is Paris.”

Clementine rolled her eyes, “Winston.”

“Madam.”

“I know that tone. I hope you don’t have some grand adventure planned for him.”

Winston sunk deeper into the tub. “I have no idea what you may be inferring.”

“Don’t you? I seem to recall my cousin being introduced to cognac and cigars at Christmas last… in your den.”

“A rite of passage. No different than baptism under fire during the Battle of the Somme or cooing with the French girl reading poetry in the cafe. I dare say any young man would prefer the cooing.”

“He was fourteen.”

“That makes it all the most impressive. How old is Wolf?”

“Seventeen.”

“Ah, much older and already accustomed to the wicked ways of the world.”

“I’m sure. Make haste; they are waiting, and do something with the London Times.”

She closed the door. Winston stood in the tub and water splashed everywhere. “Seventeen. I fear this is not the time to be coming of age, in a world of uncertainty and gathering storm clouds. In fact, I’m certain of that.”

* * *

Winston greeted Mr. and Mrs. Kruger in the living room. Winston was neatly attired in a suit, with a gold pocket watch which was tucked away inside his jacket. Mr. and Mrs. Kruger stood up from the sofa. The Kruger’s were professionally dressed which corresponded with their place in the academic circles of Germany.

Winston took Mrs. Kruger’s hand and kissed it. “You are most welcome indeed to Chartwell. I apologize for my tardiness. If truth be told, I was in the bathtub reading the London Times and contemplating the state of affairs of the world. I must say I found the result to be not only uninspiring but rather dreadful.”

Professor Kruger nodded in agreement. “The truth has a way of being most unpleasant. I fear of what is to become of my country.”

An uneasy silence came over the room. Winston grimaced.
Perhaps it is worse than I thought
. Winston broke the impasse. “Now Mrs. Kruger and Herr Professor Kruger, I’m so pleased that you have survived the rigors of your trip.”

Professor Kruger shook Winston’s hand. Mrs. Kruger said, “It was pleasant… much more so after we left Germany, if only temporarily.”

Professor Kruger said, “Germany these days is not the most enlightened of places. Adolf Hitler and his ilk have seen to that. They have no appreciation for higher education or free thought. They would like nothing better than to have everyone bend to their simplistic slogans.”

Mrs. Kruger said, “Dear, this will pass. Hitler is nothing more than a fad. Germany will come to its sense. At least, I hope that is the case.”

Winston said, “And this must be Wolf.” Wolf was dressed rather smartly, just like his parents. He was somewhat tall for his age, and his wiry frame was showing the first signs of filling out. Winston noticed that Wolf not only had a rock solid chin, but the young man had a presence about him. Perhaps that was missed by the others in the room, but not by Winston.
What do we have here? Indeed
. “You’re a fine specimen, my boy. I’ve heard much about you.”

“Thank you, Sir Winston.”

Clementine motioned to the sofa. Mr. and Mrs. Kruger sat down. “Tea for everyone?” Professor Kruger and his wife nodded.

Winston said, “Scotch and water for myself and young Wolf.” Wolf slyly smiled.
He was game
.

Clementine said, “Winston.”

“My dear, a nip of scotch would round out the lad’s higher education. Especially since Wolf is to be at the helm of my two-man sailboat at tomorrow’s Regatta. It is an important task. Much is at stake. Surely this is the year the trophy from the Regatta will come home to Chartwell. I will place it on the mantle. Wolf and I will drink milk from it...or something else.” Wolf laughed and smirked.

Clementine wanted to reprimand Winston. Instead, she said, “Perhaps you may want to ask Wolf before you drown him in the River Thames. Let him be; he just arrived on these shores.”

Wolf said, “That would be great fun Sir Winston. But I haven’t navigated a sailboat, much less raced one.”

“The learning curve is steep,” said Winston. “By noon, you will be an expert.”

Professor Kruger said, “Wolf has taken to the sky in a glider. They say he is a natural pilot.”

Wolf said with an air of assurance. “My wish is to join the Luftwaffe as a fighter pilot.”

Clementine spoke sharply, “And your parents approve?”

Mrs. Kruger answered quickly and with resolve. “We certainly do not. Wolf will make a fine mathematician. That would be something that we all can be proud of.”

Wolf looked at his mother, and her heart sank. “But I want to fly. I will fly. It is my dream.”

Professor Kruger wasn’t amused, “Wolf—”

“Yes, father.”

Professor Kruger’s voice became stern and unrelenting. “Glider instructions were to be part of molding you into a whole person and not a means to an end. No different than taking piano lessons or gardening. In fact, Sir Winston is a well-known lover of plant life. Isn’t that true Winston? But that doesn’t mean his career path was to be in agriculture.”

Winston said, “But many in the House of Commons would be more than pleased to see me toiling in the fields. They’d give me a parting shovel, plated in fool's gold, to work the manure pile. They would chuckle from the deed. I would not. It would serve them right if I had a green thumb.”

Wolf said, “Politics is rough, then Sir Winston. And not fair?”

“That is true my boy. But I’d rather plant tulips than dogfight in an airplane. Especially if my machine gun jams.”

Mrs. Kruger bristled. “I didn’t raise a well educated young man, with academic potential to fly the skies as the Red Baron. He was a pilot wasn’t he?”

Wolf said, “His real name was Manfred von Richthofen.”

“I don’t care if he was Attila the Hun. I am confident that neither would have known the equation for the Pythagoras Theorem.”

Winston said, “Quite right Mrs. Kruger. But I don’t think the Pythagoras Theorem would have been useful when Attila was sacking the Balkans. Although in the Roman's case, their phalanx jabbed and took a step to the right. I’m sure that was calculated in detail for the Roman centurions.”

Clementine scolded Winston, “My dear, you will stay clear of private family affairs.”

“I rather doubt Attila the Hun would care that I comment on his conquest of the Slavic tribes. He probably doesn’t have a family to speak of, but there could be a squatty character with three-inch teeth and a massive chest who may appear on the international scene... forthwith. In fact, Mussolini would fit the bill.”

Wolf laughed. Clementine raised her voice, “Winston Churchill you’re impossible. No wonder you have been relegated to the back-benches for the good part of your career.”

Now she was playing into Winston’s hand. “Mrs. Churchill, it is true that my opinions of the dangers or a rearming Germany have given me a seat far away from the spotlight. Some would say that I now find myself alone in the wilderness.

“However, I would caution in seeking comfort in the arms of the masses who so readily agree on their myopic view of the future. My dear when everyone is leaning one way in a boat, it has a tendency to turn over... and I may add with somewhat dire consequences.”

Professor Kruger said, “Wolf we will speak no further on this matter. We are guests of the Churchill’s and this lovely estate.”

Winston said, “I apologize for perhaps overstepping my bounds.”

Clementine smirked, “Well taken and noted... but rather late in coming.”

Winston smiled, “My lad, tomorrow we will see how you handle a sailboat. It is the same principle as flying. In either case, however, whether on the water or in the air, a mathematical miscalculation will tend to have a detrimental effect on your prospects.”

Mrs. Kruger gently put down her tea. “Finally, mathematics has entered the conversation. Wolf, your great uncle was a noted mathematician. He had a wonderful career.”

Wolf sighed as if he had heard this story a thousand times. “And then he served and died during the Franco-Prussian War. Perhaps he should have traded his slide rule for a rifle. Or better yet a fighter plane.”

“That is quite enough!” said Professor Kruger.

Winston chimed in, “Yes the Franco-Prussian War, a dress rehearsal for things to come. Sad, very sad. Many families were touched by the grim reaper during the Franco-Prussian War. But it was nothing like World War I.” Clementine shook her head, and Winston stopped.

A waiter entered the room, “Dinner is served.”

Winston eyed Clementine, who gave him another look. “And not too soon.”

After dinner, Winston led Professor Kruger into his study. Wolf hesitated at the entrance, not sure if he was invited into the man’s lair. Winston nodded and Wolf walked inside. Wolf said, “So this is a man’s world.”

Winston closed the door behind them. “Yes a place of refuge and clear thoughts.”

Professor Kruger spun a massive globe that was on an ornate mahogany spindle. Professor Kruger stopped the globe, and his finger landed on England. “Winston it seems to me that England looks a little too big.”

Winston laughed and poured two glasses of cognac. They sat down and Winston said, “Home field advantage I suppose. And young Wolf what can I get you?”

Wolf looked at his father. Professor Kruger said, “The door is it—”

“Yes, quite locked. We won’t be disturbed unless there is a national calamity like the kitchen sink leaking.” Winston poured Wolf a shot of cognac. They raised their glasses. “Yes, here’s to world peace even as unlikely as that may be. And to manhood. Wolf may your adventures be daring and heroic, commencing with the Regatta tomorrow.”

Professor Kruger said, “Cheers.”

“Professor, Adolf Hitler and his thugs have they caused any real trouble for you at the University?”

“I’m afraid so, but nothing to worry about. Useless diatribes over teaching materials. I’m not sure how calculus can be a threat to the Nazi Party. But then again, I’m not a functional illiterate who wears a swastika armband.”

Winston coddled his cognac in both hands. He wondered if Professor Kruger knew that he was playing with fire. The Nazis were different. He had seen the spy reports from his contacts in the government. The Nazis weren’t to be trusted, and they could be ruthless at a drop of a hat.

Winston said, “Professor Kruger it isn’t the calculus. The threat is the intellectuals teaching any class, be it political science or medicine. The Nazi’s fear those who are smarter and more apt to question the party’s motives. Anyone in a position of influence or power could be in real danger. Like yourself and your wife.”

Professor Kruger shrugged off the advice. Perhaps the professor was just too civilized to fathom what Hitler and the Nazis were capable of. “But Winston, we are after all an institution of higher education. Our mission is to educate the impressionable minds of our young people. We leave the politics to the politicians. The university in all its history has been outside the influence and debauchery of politics. Surely even Adolf Hitler can respect that fact. He has nothing to fear from us. What evil can a textbook do, against his Nazi Party?”

“Perhaps more than anyone can imagine.”

Wolf was still holding his shot of cognac. He brought the glass up to his face and twirled its contents. “Sir Winston is cognac to be sipped?”

“Yes, and savored like a fine cigar.”

“A cigar?”

“Don’t concern yourself, that’s a habit that can wait until you’re much older and disillusioned with the world in general and ruling class in particular. I do my best thinking with a glass of cognac in one hand and a cigar placed ever so firmly under my molars.”